


Harrowed

by Danruu



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danruu/pseuds/Danruu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kmeme prompt: Cullen has long given up on being with men after being abused during his time as a prisoner at Kinloch Hold. Then Dorian came along and threatens to shatter the careful balance he's found in the Inquisition and his lyrium addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kmeme prompt: Cullen is bi but during the events in the Circle, he was sexually assaulted by demons wearing the faces of male mages. After that he gave up on being with men. Enter Inquizytor or Dorian. Cullen despairs but there's nothing he can do - he falls in love, even though he knows nothing could possibly come from it, because even if he'd be able to bring himself to tell (obviously not straight) LI how he feels, he doubts he'd be ever able to be with him physically.
> 
> The references to the sexual abuse are vague and non-explicit, but they are there so trigger warnings everywhere.

This had been a bad idea from the start. Cullen had known it, from the minute he’d met the grey eyes of the Tevinter mage (Maker, a _Tevinter_  mage of all people), that Dorian would have an effect on him. It was the confidence perhaps; it reminded him of the Amell girl he had been so infatuated with when he was still only a teenager stationed at Kinloch Hold. Before... everything.   
  
He’d tried to resist, tried to avoid Dorian. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, and too much had happened... was happening... to allow him any distractions. But with Skyhold came more time to spare, with the Inquisitor gone for longer at a time, and Dorian quickly became a source of companionship. Companionship Cullen craved so much it hurt sometimes. They’d spend hours talking, sometimes about nothing at all. They’d visit each other in their own little haunts of the keep. And more and more Cullen found himself thinking about the other man. Wanting to see him. Even if he knew what he really wanted was impossible.   
  
Today they met in the garden, thankfully quiet as the Inquisitor had left that morning for the Hinterlands. “They never take me along. If I wasn’t so content to read books and drink wine at the Inquisition’s expense, I’d almost be insulted.” Dorian quipped as they played another game of chess, even as the sun dipped below the battlements and cast long shadows over the board.   
  
Cullen smiled, moving a piece and making Dorian sigh dramatically. “I don’t know how you keep doing this Commander. Playing with you is bad for my ego.”  
  
“I’m sure your ego will recover.” Cullen replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “And it’s Cullen. I’m not Commander here.” He enjoyed the back-and-forth they had during their games, for the most part. Dorian flirted, but it was gentle enough that Cullen could pretend he didn’t notice, and even respond a little without making it seem too obvious. He wished he could allow himself more, but he dared not even try.   
  
But Dorian seemed more focussed on him today, eyes lingering a little too long on his lips, leaning just a little more than was necessary to play chess. Cullen noticed, and his heart was already thudding in his chest. “This does make me wonder Commander...  _Cullen,_ ” The way Dorian says his name sometimes sends shivers up his spine. “What other talents you have?”   
  
It’s harmless. Cullen knows it. But he stands so suddenly the board goes flying, sending the finely carved pieces skittering over the stone slabs. “I can’t.” Is all he manages to say before he’s walking off as fast as he can without breaking into a run. 

His heart is beating fast, he feels breathless.  
  
 _“What other talents do you have?” A voice that isn’t Dorian’s, a voice that’s cold and cruel and amused, words mocking and spoken into his ear as softly as a lover’s. “What other tricks does this pretty Templar know?”_  
  
Cullen isn’t aware that anyone is following him until he feels a hand grabbing his arm, and when he whirls round Dorian steps back, hands raised to show he’s no threat. Cullen stops, cheeks instantly turning scarlet.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Dorian says, surprising the Commander immediately.   
  
“Why?” Cullen blinks, catching his breath.  
  
“I shouldn’t have pushed you. I know you’re not... my way inclined... and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I suppose I just wanted to know. One way or another.” Dorian looked so sincere it made Cullen’s heart speed up all over again, though for a very different reason this time.   
  
Cullen looked out over the courtyard, the light all but faded now, leaving only the eerie moonlight on the bridge. “I... It’s not that. It’s not you.” He sighed, the guilt gnawing at him as Dorian snorted derisively. What was he supposed to say? They’d been spending time together for weeks now, and every time he went back to his room after and thought about the mage. His eyes, the colour of his skin, the way his mouth would quirk up if Cullen said something that amused him but he didn’t want to interrupt him. Cullen had tried not to think about what it could mean, the consequences of such a thing... at a time like this...  
  
Cullen took a deep breath. Dorian deserved the truth, even if it wasn’t all of it. “I like you Dorian. Very much.” The change on the man’s face was enough to make Cullen pause. That hope. It was more than a few flirtatious comments over chess wasn’t it? How could he not have noticed? The visits to his office, his own visits to the library. As they’d talked about Tevinter and Ferelden over meals. They’d even discussed matters of Faith and the differences in their beliefs...   
  
“So. I like you. You like me.” Dorian interrupted his train of thought. “It should be very simple. So what’s the ‘but’? You’re betrothed to another? No? Something about duty? Some vow made in the service of the Templars perhaps?” Cullen must have flinched, because Dorian’s eyes narrowed like when he spotted an opening in their chess games. “Ah ha. Something to do with Templars. Is it that you’ve given up lyrium? Oh don’t look so surprised, it’s fairly obvious to anyone that you’re not taking it.” Dorian softened, reaching out to place a hand on Cullen’s arm. “If you think I can’t handle it...” 

“Please Dorian. Stop.” Cullen looked down at the hand touching him, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that wouldn’t budge. “I can’t be with you. And I can’t tell you why either. It’s... too much. There’s too much at stake.”   
  
Pulling away hurt, but Cullen knew if he didn’t do it now he’d risk so much more in the long run. “I’m sorry. I wish I could...” he left that sentence unfinished. He wished he could do a lot of things, but wishing wasn’t going to make it so. He needed to be alone.   
  
And Dorian didn’t argue, didn’t pursue him. For the first time since Cullen had met him, the mage had nothing to say. It didn’t help as much as Cullen wanted it to. He couldn’t look at his face as he turned.   
  
Cullen dragged himself back to his room, locking the doors before climbing up the ladder to his lonely bed.   
  
 _“Please.” His voice. His voice but younger, trembling with fear. “Please... no more... I can’t...”_  
  
 _“What other talents do you have?” A hand in his hair, pulling sharply to laugh at the yelp of pain. A man’s voice in his ear. Uldred? Or another of his demons? “What other tricks does this pretty Templar know?” Hands touching his back, going further, lower._  
  
 _“I don’t know...” He’s cut off as a sob escapes him. Maker how much longer? How much more can he endure? He’s so thirsty, so hungry, he’ll do anything right now. They know it. Of course they know it._  
  
 _“I know.” The voice says, and then there’s a sharp push and pain and he’s screaming._  
  
Cullen wakes up screaming too. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting somewhere I promise. Getting them into an established relationship was always the hurdle. Healing Cullen is the goal!

The next morning was unpleasant. Cullen woke up shivering, not from the cold but from that familiar itch that came from giving up lyrium. His head hurt, and he was exhausted from another night of bad dreams mixed with worse memories. He was sure he could still hear Uldred’s laughter in the back of his mind. And, perhaps worst of all, was when he finally dragged himself down from his bedroom to his office below, Dorian was waiting outside his door.   
  
“Dorian.” Cullen said, unsure what to make of the appearance of the mage so early in the morning. Dorian looked as tired as Cullen felt, his hair uncharacteristically messy, wearing an expression that could have been called a scowl if not for the way it didn’t reach his eyes.   
  
“Cullen.” He said curtly in response. “I believe we were in the middle of a conversation last night. One I’d quite like to finish before it drives me to hard liquor. Some more.” The thought of Dorian drinking like that because of him made Cullen shift guiltily, and he stepped aside to let the other man into his office, making sure to close the door behind him. With any luck his officers would think he was still asleep and leave them be.   
  
“I already told you Dori-“  
  
“No. You didn’t. You said you liked me then you ran off. That’s not exactly good for someone like me. I like to talk, if you hadn’t noticed.”   
  
Cullen sighed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His head was pounding. “Well I don’t know what else I can say.”  
  
“Tell me why.”  
  
“I can’t.”   
  
“Venhedis...” Dorian couldn’t stay still, and he paced back and forth as Cullen leaned against his desk, trying to stop the room from spinning. Dorian noticed, and suddenly he was in front of him, looking at him intently, concern replacing the annoyance over his handsome face. Maker, he was handsome wasn’t he? “You don’t look well.” 

“I didn’t sleep well.” Cullen said, finally being honest about something. Dorian’s mouth quirked up a little.   
  
“Me neither.” He admitted, and then sighed, falling silent for a moment. Cullen stared at the floor until the other man’s voice made him look up again. “May I try something?” Dorian asked, very quietly, so sincerely that Cullen nodded before even asking what it might be. Slowly Dorian lifted a hand, cupping Cullen’s cheek gently. The mage’s hands were soft against his stubble, and so warm Cullen felt his cheeks going pink. “That’s not so bad is it?” Dorian smiled, his thumb moving to brush gently across the edge of Cullen’s scarred lips.   
  
“No...” Cullen said, his voice wavering a little. His heart was hammering in his chest, which only made his cheeks burn more from the sheer embarrassment of it. He was an ex-templar, a commander of an army. Yet here he was, weak-kneed and practically shaking over the smallest touch. How long had it been since someone had touched him like this? So long he couldn’t remember. Before Kirkwall. Before the uprising at Kinloch Hold... No. He didn’t want to think about that now.   
  
“Trust me.” Dorian said, and before the other could say anything else he’d closed the gap between them. It was a soft kiss, careful and considered like so many of Dorian’s actions. Cullen didn’t pull away, instead his eyes closed instinctively and he let one tentative hand move to the other man’s waist. Oh how he wanted this. If the nightmares had given him a chance he was sure he’d dream of this, of Dorian warm and willing, kissing him a little harder when he felt Cullen respond positively. He didn’t get to dream about it, and didn’t allow himself to think about it, but now it was happening and he could barely process it.   
  
When Dorian finally pulled away he looked more vulnerable than Cullen had ever seen him. That look of hope was back, and Cullen’s stomach clenched as the other man dropped his hand from his cheek.   
  
“I can’t be what you want.” Cullen said, his voice small and sad, looking down where his hand was still resting on Dorian’s waist. “I can’t be... intimate... not in the way you’d want me to be. I... I don’t know how.”  
  
Dorian looked puzzled, then realisation dawned on him and he was silent again, a frown on his face. Cullen stayed where he was, staring intently at where his hand was still touching the mage. He didn’t think he could pull it away right now. Even if it was better to leave now before they both got hurt. He wished he’d lied, told Dorian he had taken a vow so they would never had to have this conversation in the first place. Although that kiss was already playing over and over in his mind. 

“Look at me.” Dorian said gently, then harder. “ _Look_  at me. We don’t have to do anything. Not a damn thing understand? I don’t expect anything more than what you’re prepared to give. We can go as slow as you need Cullen. I just...” Dorian faltered for a moment, the confidence suddenly shaken as he held the blond’s gaze. “I want to be with you.”  
  
The honesty shook them both. The guilt raised in Cullen's throat like bile. Right then he wanted to tell Dorian everything. To just let go and let someone shoulder the weight. But how could he? How could he claim to care for someone only to burden them so?   
  
"You don't know me." Cullen said, though Dorian knew more about him of any in the Inquisition, save perhaps the secrets Leliana kept to herself. How long had they discussed their homelands? Their families? Weeks now. Dorian knew him as he was now.   
  
But still Cullen didn’t understand. Why? Why him? He was nothing, a nobody. No noble title, no Maker-given path any more. Just a recovering addict, an ex-templar with too many bad dreams. He held Dorian’s gaze even as he frowned in confusion. “You could do so much better than me.”   
  
“I don’t want better. I want you.”  
  
Dorian leaned in again, and Cullen’s resolve crumbled.   
  
It was weakness, he realised. Cullen had always been weak. As he sat in his office hours later, shaking from the pain of withdrawal, Dorian finally gone back to the library. He was a weak man who could never resist anything if pressed. He couldn't resist Dorian and his charms, he couldn't resist Meredith and her ideals, he couldn't resist...   
  
 _Maker how many days? How many days has it been without lyrium?_  
  
 _His body hurts, it’s crying out for the drug more than food or water. They know this. Of course they do. They know everything._  
  
 _Four... five mages stand around him. Why is it always mages? Why are they always men Cullen knew? He’s sure these men are already dead, but the demons like to wear their faces to taunt him more._  
  
 _“You want the lyrium, boy?”_  
  
 _He nods; too sick with withdrawal and fear to say anything else, though a pathetic whimper escapes him. Weak._  
  
 _“Of course you do. But what will you do to get it hm?”_  
  
 _They already know what he’ll do. He knows it too. He can't resist. Maybe this time they’ll give it to him when they’re done._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will start looking up soon I promise... I'm just an awful person.

Despite how strong his reservations had been, Cullen found that being in a fledgling relationship with Dorian was actually far more than he could have hoped for. Dorian hadn’t pried any more into what Cullen had said to him when they’d kissed in his office, though during one of their late night conversations Cullen had told him a little bit about what happened at Kinloch Hold and why he’d been sent to Kirkwall. The death and the demons part at least. It might not have been the whole truth, but even telling someone that much had been a milestone Cullen had never thought he’d reach. Dorian had listened, and afterwards merely squeezed Cullen’s hand. No need for anything else.

 

For the first time in a long time Cullen felt a little bit of happiness. He was still plagued with memories during the night, and still fought his withdrawal during the day, but Dorian helped. He’d bring him strong teas when he was obviously tired, massage his scalp if he was having a particularly bad headache, and was content to sit in silence in the corner of Cullen’s office in an armchair and read. Cullen couldn’t even begin to explain how good the last few days had been.

 

On the fifth day, Cullen woke up feeling so awful he could barely move. He’d thought his symptoms had finally plateaued since arriving at Skyhold, but after so many years of being fed a potent drug it would take more than a few weeks to be free of it.

 

When Dorian finally arrived to spend the day with him again, he found the office empty. “Commander?” He called, slipping back into his bad habit of referring to Cullen by his title. It took all of Cullen’s strength to roll onto his side to face the ladder as Dorian’s face appeared over the top of it. “Ah. There you are.”

 

Cullen flushed a little with how he must look, still in his trousers and shirt from the night before, skin clammy from the constant bursts of feverish sweats, hair messy, curled and sticking to his forehead. He was hardly a vain man, but he didn’t want Dorian to see him so dishevelled. What would the other man think?

 

To his credit, Dorian didn’t seem to even notice. Instead he was perched on the edge of Cullen’s bed, a cool hand brought up to his burning forehead. A soft sigh escaped Cullen’s lips at the slight relief. “Maker. I never realised lyrium withdrawal would take so long to get over.” Dorian said, frowning as he pushed the damp hair out of the blond’s face. “I did some research, but most people don’t even get to this point before they’ve caved in or gone mad. You should be commended really.” Cullen could only snort, before a wave of pain caused him to groan and curl into Dorian’s leg instinctively.

 

It had been like this in the first few days of withdrawal, and he was grateful he at least wouldn’t have to experience that kind of pain again. He’d been certain he was going to die at times. But now he had more confidence. As much as the withdrawal crippled him at times like this, it still wasn’t as bad as it had been. It meant his body was adapting. He could still beat it. And today he had Dorian with him. It made it more bearable. The mage left him alone mostly, but brought him a cold damp cloth for his forehead, and occasionally woke him up to force him to drink some water. For the first time in weeks he slept without a single dream to disturb him, and when he finally woke up feeling better it was dark, save for an eerie glow that Dorian had summoned beside him so he could keep reading, perched on the end of Cullen’s bed.

 

“You’re awake.” Dorian smiled so brightly in the gloom that Cullen smiled back immediately. No one had ever looked at him like that before. “How are you feeling?” The mage scooted closer, leaving the magic light floating the foot of the bed. Cullen eyed it a little warily but didn’t say anything. Lighting candles at this point was more effort than he could muster; especially now Dorian was touching his forehead again.

 

“Better. It comes and goes like this. I’ll be a little shaky on my feet but I feel okay. Just a waste of a day.” Cullen sighed. Not being able to fulfil his duties was something he took personally every time. No matter how many times Cassandra assured him that the Inquisition would be fine for a day without him.

 

“Oh come now, I got to look at your pretty sleeping face all day, so I wouldn’t call it a waste.” Dorian smirked, shifting so he was lying beside Cullen on the bed, his hand trailing from the blond’s forehead to his cheek. Cullen hummed happily, enjoying the intimacy, the way the dim light caught the fine features of Dorian’s face. “Such a pretty face.” He murmured, and Cullen was glad of the low light so the other man couldn’t see him blushing.

 

Slowly, as all his movements around Cullen were, Dorian leaned in for a kiss, soft at first but as Cullen responded it became a little more heated. There was an urgency behind the kiss and Cullen found himself pliant in the mage’s arms, letting himself be rolled onto his back with Dorian moving between his legs, lowering himself down to continue claiming the Commander’s mouth with his own.

 

Cullen wanted this. He did. He wanted to feel Dorian over him, wanted to touch him and be touched by him, explore another person in a way he hadn’t since before Kinloch Hold...

 

But there it was. As Dorian’s hand moved under his thin shirt, Cullen suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Despite Dorian being carefully braced over him it felt like he was being crushed, and even the lightest touch to his bare stomach made him shake all over.

 

_Pulling at his clothes, his armour already gone, wrenched off so harshly it’s left marks._

_The sound of laughter. Uldred and the others. Mages or demons? It’s been so long he can’t remember... but he can remember the hands on his stomach, the hands everywhere._

_“He’s pretty for a templar.”_

 

“Dorian...” Cullen gasped, so quiet that the other man didn’t hear him, mouthing at his neck as his hand moved down to the waistband of his trousers.

 

_"He’s pretty for a templar.”_

 

“Stop!” Cullen suddenly pushed back hard, shoving Dorian off himself and retreating to the furthest corner of the bed, too fatigued to go any further but desperate to put some space between them. His breathing was erratic, his eyes wide and fearful.

 

Dorian looked devastated, guilty, scared, a hundred different emotions flicking across his face in that instance as their eyes met across the bed. It had never seemed so large before. “Cullen...”

 

“Don’t.” Cullen didn’t want to hear Dorian apologise. He shouldn’t _have_ to apologise. “Please leave me Dorian. Please.”

 

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for hours. Then Dorian nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t sound like himself, and Cullen could only watch as the other man stood. “Good night Commander.” Commander. Not his name now.

 

Cullen curled into a ball in the corner of his bed, listening to the sound of Dorian’s footsteps as he left the tower, the click of the door closing behind him. The magic light flickered out as its creator moved out of range, and only once he was plunged into darkness did Cullen let the sobs escape him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly a perspective change!   
> Also can I just say how incredibly grateful I am for all the kudos and comments? It's been a long time since I've tried to write anything and knowing it's not completely awful to you guys makes it all worth it <3

Dorian stumbled out of Cullen’s rooms feeling dazed, confused, and sick to his stomach. Of course he’d managed to ruin everything by being completely unable to rein in his own damn libido. Cullen had warned him, had said he’d never done anything like that before. And there Dorian was mounting him like a horny mabari after he’d spent the whole day sick and shaking from lyrium withdrawal... Maker.

 

But despite being fairly confident that it had been entirely his fault, Dorian’s overactive brain was already trying to work out exactly what had happened. It had been going well, Cullen had been responding favourably to the way Dorian touched him at first. The change had been so sudden, so violent... If Dorian didn’t know better he’d have sworn... No. It was a ridiculous notion. Wasn’t it?

 

Dorian had been planning on drowning himself in the nearest bottle of wine for the rest of the evening, but now he was set on something else. The need to know everything had been something Alexius had always criticised him for. “Some things are best left alone.” His patron had said so often, even as they tried to perfect time magic. The bitter irony of the Magisters never failed to amaze him. But this wasn’t some fanciful idea of an impetuous youth, this was important. Dorian would never admit it out loud just yet, but he had fallen hard for the Commander, and seeing him hurting so _profoundly_ hurt him too. It was more than being a bit nervous about sex, that was for certain.

 

He reached the library, quiet at this time of night, but he kept walking up the staircase to where the crows he hated so much roosted. Of course, he wasn’t there to see crows, rather the Spymaster who also roosted in this rather dreary place.

 

Cullen had only shared a little about his past, about how he’d joined the templars as a boy, how he’d been at the Ferelden Circle tower when a group of mages rebelled, summoned demons and killed Templars, how he’d been transferred to Kirkwall afterwards where he’d spent ten years as the Knight Captain under a fanatical mage-hater. Then after she’d been turned into a lyrium statue, he joined the Inquisition. Or whatever it had been called before that. And somewhere in that messy life, something had happened to make the fearless Commander into a man terrified of physical contact.

 

“Dorian? How can I help?” Unsurprisingly, Leliana was still awake, and Dorian smiled a little at how she moved the piece of paper she’d been writing on under the nearest book as quickly as her rogue training allowed. It was no secret that she was writing to her Warden lover, but clearly whatever she’d been writing was not for anyone’s eyes but the Hero of Ferelden herself.

 

“I...” How to ask this? Dorian didn’t like talking about people when they were not present, especially someone he cared for. He had to remind himself that this was for Cullen.

 

“Are you here regarding our dear Commander?” Spymaster indeed, Leliana cut straight to the point and Dorian was almost relieved by it. Of course she already knew. She knew everything, usually before the people in question knew it themselves.

 

“Yes. Commander... Cullen... and I have become close. As I’m sure you’re aware.” She smiled knowingly and he tried not to fidget on the spot. Maker why did this make him so nervous? “I know you knew him. Or at least met him once... when he was at the Circle tower in Ferelden. I just wanted... I wanted to know what happened there.”

 

Leliana fixed him with a hard stare, and Dorian moved to sit beside her at her desk. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper even though they were alone.

 

“I was with the Hero of Ferelden when we went to the Circle.” Leliana said, leaning back in her chair. “It was overrun with demons and abominations. Almost every mage and templar had been slaughtered or transformed, it didn’t matter which they were. We fought our way through, up to the Harrowing chamber... Cullen was there.” Leliana’s eyes flicked to Dorian, who was listening intently.

 

“He had been tortured, for days, if not weeks. Denied food, water, sleep, and lyrium. He was half-mad when we found him, and twisted with hatred for mages. He was so young, the same age as Alistair at the time. It was... difficult to see.” 

 

“What happened to the people who did that to him?” Dorian asked. He was sure he knew the answer, but he had to be sure. He had to be sure that anyone who hurt Cullen was dead.

 

“The mage Uldred and his group? We killed them all.” A matter-of-fact reply, and the one he desired. “But we rescued the mages who were not involved, which made Cullen angry. I do not blame him for it. He was a young man who saw terrible things. Had terrible things done to him. Not even I know to what extent. Cullen has never told me and I have never asked.”

 

Dorian nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with Leliana. Why did he get the distinct impression she knew exactly _why_ he was asking these questions? Who needed Cole when you had Sister Nightingale to read your mind? “And what then? He was just shipped off to Kirkwall? No help?”

 

Leliana laughed, a little coldly. “What else would they do? No doubt they also told him it was the Maker’s Will that he survived at all and that he should be grateful. Such is the way of things for Templars.”

 

They fell silent for a moment, Dorian mulling over what Leliana had told him, wishing he could run back to Cullen’s room now and hold him close. There was still a question he wanted to ask, but Leliana had already given him the only answer she knew. It would be better for all of them if he kept it to himself.

 

“Dorian...” Leliana’s voice was soft again, eyes cast down. “Cullen... is he alright?”

 

“I don’t know.” Dorian replied, the honesty surprising them both. “I hope so.”

 

“He’s lucky he has you.” Leliana sounded wistful.

 

Dorian snorted despite himself. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Not if his performance tonight was anything to go by. Cullen probably felt anything but lucky.

 

“Listen to me Dorian.” Leliana said sharply as she leaned close, looking straight into Dorian’s eyes in that way only she could. That way that saw right into you. “Hold onto him. Don’t let go for anything. Especially not for the past.” There was a forcefulness to her tone, an attempt to cover up her own pain. How much she must miss the Warden, Dorian thought, suppressing a sudden mad urge to hug her. The southerners were clearly rubbing off on him, he'd never been so touchy-feely back in Tevinter.

 

“Thank you.” He opted for instead, which earned him a smile.

 

“Any time Dorian.”

 

As Dorian headed back down the staircase to his haunt in the library, he saw Leliana pull out her letter, and it only hardened his resolve. He couldn’t let Cullen go. Not without a fight.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time... 
> 
> And it's not done yet, maybe a couple more chapters to go with the actual process of trying to mend this kind of damage... Watch this space.
> 
> Also every kudos/bookmark/comment I get makes me the happiest person. Thank you so much for reading <3

After his talk with Leliana Dorian had returned to his usual spot in the library to mull over what had happened that evening. He wanted to go straight to Cullen’s room, to sit him down and talk through what he’d learned, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. He needed some time, and Cullen probably needed more. Instead Dorian opted for staring out the window, unable to concentrate long enough to read anything, and drinking was out of the question.

 

This had never been his intention. He hadn’t wanted awkward feelings for the Inquisition’s Commander, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to get entangled with a man with more baggage than any one man should ever have to carry. But this had been far out of his control. Cullen was... special. And by the Maker he never thought he’d ever think that about anyone again.

 

But at the same time Dorian was scared. Scared by what he might learn, how Cullen might react. Scared he wouldn’t be able to help, to make it better. What if he made it _worse?_ What would happen then? The loss of control had been exhilarating at first, but now it was terrifying, and Dorian longed to claw some of it back.

 

By some miracle he fell asleep in his chair in the small hours, stirring only when the sun hit his face as it crept up over Skyhold’s walls. He woke up with an ache in his neck and sense of dread in his heart.  As much as he wanted to, Dorian didn’t go to Cullen yet. He forced himself to the room he barely used to wash and change his clothes. It was a small act, but it made him feel a little calmer as he combed through his hair. And he smelled better, which could only be a good thing in his mind.

 

People were starting to spill out into the courtyard as Dorian headed for Cullen’s office. The battlements were thankfully free of any wandering scouts, and he had a feeling Leliana was responsible for that. Dorian stood outside the door for a long time, gathering the courage to knock. When he finally did he was relieved to hear Cullen’s voice on the other side of the door.

 

Stepping into the room Dorian was surprised to see Cullen sat at his desk, washed and dressed, though not in his usual armour, which was a change enough. But the other man seemed calm, no different than usual, reading over notes and reports until he noticed who exactly had just entered the room.

 

There was a long silence, and Cullen flushed and looked at the floor. “I think we need to have a talk. Don’t you?” Dorian said gently, not wanting to push even as they both knew it wasn’t really a choice at this point.

 

Cullen shifted, still not meeting Dorian’s stare. “Yes I think we do.” He replied.

 

“Not here. You need some air.” Dorian looked around the room. It was beginning to feel a little oppressive from all the time they’d spent in it lately, and he was fairly certain Cullen hadn’t left it in at least a day. Somewhere a little more neutral might be good for them both. Cullen looked like he was going to argue, but his face softened and he nodded. He followed Dorian out onto the battlements, climbing to the highest, and most deserted, point. Dorian wished they were here under better circumstances so he could appreciate the incredible view more.

 

“So. I’ll go first.” Dorian looked at Cullen as the other man looked out towards the mountains. “I’m sorry. About last night. No, don’t try and say it wasn’t my fault,” Cullen shut his mouth again. “I should have been more careful.”

 

“Dorian...” Cullen finally turned to look at him, he even stepped closer, but Dorian took a step back.

 

“No, my turn. You can talk in a minute.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to maintain some sort of control here. “I need to be honest with you. Last night, after, well... after what happened, I went to see Leliana. Because she knows you. Knew you. Before any of us did. And you know me, I can’t let something go if I don’t have all the answers...” Cullen’s face was unreadable, and he looked over the edge of the wall as Dorian forced himself to keep talking.

 

“She told me about finding you at the Circle tower, what you went through... what she knows of it anyway...” That got a reaction, Cullen visibly tensed, his jaw clenching. Dorian spoke softer, he wanted to reach for the other man, but didn’t trust himself to. “I’d understand you know. If the torture... I can imagine it must have left scars... Like an aversion to touch?”

 

Cullen turned away from the view, sliding down the wall to sit on the cold stone instead. He suddenly felt very weighed down, and he wasn’t even wearing his armour. He wasn’t sure how to feel about what Dorian was saying. A rush of feelings hit him, anger, betrayal, but also affection and an overwhelming need to _talk_. Dorian sat down beside him, and Cullen fought the need to be closer to him.

 

“I’ve never told anyone what happened to me at the Circle.” Cullen said slowly. “Leliana, the Warden, they saw some of it, but not all. They were growing tired of me by then.” He could see it so vividly, the prison they were keeping him, that nauseating shade of purple. “Uldred was a monster. He did terrible things to all of us, but me... I was the youngest. I must have stood out. As the others were killed or turned into abominations he kept me alive so they could... do other things.”

 

Now it was Dorian’s turn to clench his jaw. There it was. For the first time in his life, he wished a theory of his had been wrong. But no. And now Cullen sounded so detached, like he was reading from a piece of paper. Dorian wasn’t sure whether he preferred this way or not.  

 

“Uldred denied me lyrium; the pain in the first few days of withdrawal is beyond imagining. I was desperate... for that more than food or water. He’d tell me he’d give it to me if I behaved and did what they wanted. He never did.” Cullen stared intently at his knees while he spoke, wishing he could block the memories from his mind completely. “I never told anyone the extent of it. Not Greagoir, Meredith, anyone. Kirkwall kept me busy enough that I never had to think about it for long. But since joining the Inquisition... Maker it’s been ten years. Why does it still affect me so?”

 

“The last time you were off lyrium was when you were forced. It could be your mind’s reaction to going through withdrawal again, even though you’re willing this time.” Dorian said quietly. He hadn’t meant to interrupt, but he could never resist trying to answer a question when it was so easily laid out in front of him. It made sense. When he was busy as Knight Captain, Cullen was also being provided lyrium. Now he had more time between disasters, no lyrium to help him sleep, and a tentative new relationship with another man... Maker what a mess.

 

It seemed Cullen read his mind as he laughed humourlessly. “Just my luck that I finally found someone I want to be with, then this happens...” Cullen sighed. “Perhaps I should start taking the lyrium again?”

 

“Nonsense.” Dorian said sharply.

 

“If it’s a way to stop it...” Cullen trailed off. “I just want it to stop. I just want to be able to touch someone and be touched without seeing them. I can’t sleep. I dream about it. I hear them, the mages... the demons... it’s like I’m back there.”

 

Dorian moved up onto his knees, pulling Cullen into a hug he wasn’t sure the other man wanted. But Cullen suddenly clutched him hard, burying his face in the mage’s chest as his shoulders shook. Dorian ran his hands through blond hair, wishing he was like Cole, able to take pain away in a simple gesture. But he didn’t think Cullen would thank him for that even if he could.

 

“I’ll keep you safe Amatus. I promise you.” Dorian pulled them back, so he was leaning against the wall with Cullen cradled safely between his legs, head still on his chest. “I’m here for you. I’ll help you. However long it takes.”

 

“What if... what if it’s never better?”

 

“Didn’t you hear me the last time I told you? It doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be with you. I love-“ Dorian swallowed hard. This wasn’t how he imagined his first declaration of love being. He imagined being swept off his feet, laughing and smiling rather than tears and this unbearable pain. But this... this was real. It needed to be said. “I love you.”

 

Cullen stilled in his arms, quiet save his ragged breaths. “I think I love you too.”

 

Dorian laughed gently, pressing a kiss to Cullen’s temple. “Good to know.”

 

There was a long road ahead of them, he knew this. But sitting there looking up at the sky with Cullen curled against his chest; Dorian knew they’d made the first step. And they’d done it together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some M rated sexual things near the end... I'm almost there I think! One more chapter to go!
> 
> Endless thank yous and love to all the comments/bookmark/kudos. You guys have given me all the confidence and I love you all!

In the days that followed Cullen’s revelation they were kept busy, which was a blessing in its own way. The Inquisitor had returned from whatever part of the world he’d been travelling, and Cullen was called to frequent meetings to discuss troop movements and strategy and all sorts of things that Dorian didn’t care to know about. It provided a welcome distraction for the Commander though, and that was good enough for the mage.

 

In their less frequent free time they continued as normal, meeting in the gardens for chess, spending time together in Cullen’s office while he worked and Dorian read. Cullen was happy to let Dorian hug him, even kiss him, just like before. It was like their conversation on the battlements had never happened, and while there was a selfish part of Dorian that wanted to continue to pretend, the larger part of him knew they couldn’t ignore it forever.

 

On the nights when Cullen worked late, hunched over maps in the war room with the Inquisitor, Dorian went to the tavern. On this particular night, Dorian was delighted when Cullen joined him, a little late of course, but Dorian was more than happy to make room in his corner for the Commander.

 

“Did you have fun?” He teased as Cullen sat down beside him, ignoring the looks from a few of the other patrons. It was only a matter of time before the whole of Skyhold knew about their relationship after all. Dorian watched him out of the corner of his eye, admiring the lines of the man’s face, but also fretting over the dark circles under Cullen’s eyes. He still wasn’t sleeping well, and had turned down Dorian’s offer of a sleeping draught.

 

Idly Dorian put a hand on Cullen’s knee, and was surprised when Cullen put his own over it. Dorian kept his face neutral, but he was beaming on the inside. He wanted Cullen to get used to being touched, even if it was just little things like this. Despite what he may think, he was not broken beyond all repair just yet, and Dorian was determined to prove it to him. Somehow.

 

It was a good evening, and Dorian had succeeded in keeping the casual touches going. An idle stroke of Cullen’s wrist, a squeeze of his knee, a sympathetic pat to the shoulder when Cullen vented about troops and barracks and more things that Dorian refused to understand. It was a shame to see the tavern close, but afterwards Cullen and Dorian stood outside exchanging smiles as the rest of the drinkers stumbled back to various quarters.

 

“Dorian. I’d like to ask you something.” Cullen suddenly seemed nervous, and Dorian tried not to jump to the worst possible conclusion.

 

Instead he turned to look at him, squeezing his elbow a little. Any excuse for another slight touch. “Anything for you Amatus.”

 

“I’d... like you to come with me. To my quarters...” Cullen was avoiding his eyes, but Dorian grinned at the invitation.

 

“Are you that desperate to get me alone and all to yourself Commander?” He said, easily slipping back into his flirtatious self, and judging by the way Cullen blushed and smiled, the other man didn’t seem to mind it.

 

Dorian was glad he hadn’t drunk anything; he wanted his wits about him so he didn’t ruin this. Cullen obviously trusted him, and that trust was a gift he didn’t think he deserved. They walked hand in hand back to Cullen’s room, making sure the doors were locked when they got in. Cullen hesitated for only a moment before climbing up the ladder to where his bed was, and Dorian hesitated for only a moment before he followed. They stood there for a moment; neither of them were sure what to do. The full moon cast a strange glow onto the bed, only highlighting the source of their discomfort. As always, it was Dorian who broke the silence.

 

“I need you to tell me what to do here...” He fidgeted, wishing he could see Cullen properly in the darkness. “I don’t want... I don’t want to upset you. Or do anything that makes you... uncomfortable.” Cullen was moving, and Dorian’s eyes went wide as the other man pulled off his shirt, then his trousers.

 

Cullen sat on the bed, finally illuminated by the moonlight. Dorian could only stare at how the light caught his skin. Maker he suddenly felt a little overwhelmed. Cullen on the other hand looked nervous, but he still managed a smile. “I’d like to touch you... if I can?”

 

Well. There was a request that Dorian wasn’t going to deny. He was a little glad he’d worn something with less buckles than usual, though he still stumbled over them as he stripped down to his own smalls. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined the evening going, he was supposed to be coming up with the ideas to help Cullen, but it seemed Cullen was intent on helping himself. Dorian chided himself for giving the other man too little credit. Cullen was stronger than anyone he’d ever met.

 

As he joined him on the bed, Cullen reached out, letting his fingers brush against Dorian’s collarbone. Dorian’s breath hitched at the gentle touch and he did the same to Cullen. “Don’t rush yourself.” He said carefully. “You can touch me however you want, but we can stop. Anytime.”

 

Cullen felt a rush of gratitude and love for the man sat on his bed. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely terrified of what might come from this evening, but he’d spent the whole game of Wicked Grace wishing he and Dorian were alone; he refused to back down now. He _wanted_ him. And by the Maker he _would_ have him, body and soul, he swore it.

 

Dorian lay back against the pillows, and Cullen took a moment to drink in the sight of him like this. The sculpted lines of his abdominal muscles, the trail of hair that led down from his navel, the way his grey eyes bored into him as he waited for him to do something. So patient. He’d been so patient. Cullen loved him for it.

 

He started slowly, running his hands through Dorian’s hair and down his neck to his shoulders, feeling every muscle and listening to the sounds of the mage’s breathing. Cullen moved carefully down his arms and back up again, palms flat as he smoothed them across Dorian’s chest. The toned physique had been a surprise, but Dorian always said he was not a mage who sat around and relied on magic for everything.

 

Cullen started a little as he felt Dorian’s own hands come up to touch his face, but he quickly relaxed into it as he continued his exploration of the body beneath him. Dorian began to imitate his movements, trailing down Cullen’s shoulders and arms, moving back up to splay his hands across his pale, scarred chest. He went much slower, and Cullen stilled as he felt Dorian trace a jagged scar with his finger.

 

“Kirkwall.” He murmured an explanation. “When Meredith went mad...” Dorian shushed him with a smile and a slight shake of his head. He didn’t need to explain right now; they just needed to keep touching. Cullen smiled back and continued roaming his hands across Dorian’s stomach.

 

There was no mistaking the pooling heat, and the way his body was reacting to the touches. Cullen couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched himself, and now it seemed his body was craving the attention. But Dorian wasn’t moving any further down than his stomach, and Cullen bit his lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped him.

 

Dorian smirked, moving his hands off Cullen completely and moving them to the waistband of his smalls. “Would you like to see?” He asked, the mischievous glint in his eyes reminding Cullen of all those chess matches before they’d admitted their feelings. He’d forgotten how much he’d missed seeing it. Cullen nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically as Dorian laughed.

 

Cullen rolled off him to lie on his side, watching with a blush so deep Dorian could see it in the moonlight. He grinned again, happy to indulge the other man a little as he very slowly slid his smalls down. To his surprise, Cullen did the same, with a little less grace, kicking off the last bit of clothing. It suddenly dawned on Dorian that they were both very naked, and Maker he could barely believe it.

 

“I have an idea.” He said, voice thick with lust as he committed the sight of Cullen naked and blushing to memory. “I’ll touch myself, and you touch yourself if you want to... Then next time we’ll touch each other...” If there was a next time. He hoped there would be. Cullen certainly seemed to approve of the idea, looking a lot less nervous now.

 

They didn’t speak, other sounds took that place. Dorian moaned more than Cullen, who was quiet and full of concentration as he was in all things, but they stared at each other the whole time, eyes flicking from where their hands were to back up to meet each other’s gaze. As he reached his climax Dorian found he didn’t look down at all, just at Cullen’s face as the other man’s eyes closed, biting his lip before he suddenly gasped and shuddered. The sight was so perfect that Dorian followed suit, though with a far louder moan.

 

For a moment after they just lay there, staring at the ceiling, or lack thereof, catching their breaths. Dorian sat up first, wiping his hand on a corner of the sheet before leaning over to do the same to Cullen. The other man looked dazed, but happy. Happier. Dorian wasn’t sure what to do now. Should he leave? The tugging on his arm seemed to suggest otherwise, and he lay back down before he could overthink it.

 

“Stay.” Cullen mumbled, reading the other man’s mind. He felt... relaxed. Calm. Like the feeling he used to get after taking lyrium, but better. He didn’t want to be alone in this bed tonight. If the nightmares came again he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke up alone. He curled into Dorian’s chest, letting the other man pull the blankets over them.

 

He’d let someone touch him, let someone see him naked, he hadn’t imagined it would ever be possible; and he’d resigned himself to it. It was only the first step, Cullen knew that, but with Dorian by his side...

 

He didn’t dream at all that night.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! 
> 
> This is mostly sex... And yes it did occur to me about halfway through that I hadn't addressed why Cullen wasn't on top... but eh. I like bottom!Cullen, so... here he is xD
> 
> I lost my mojo with this fic a little, but thank you to everyone who's read/commented/bookmarked/kudos'ed. I'm now inspired to write so much more! (Got some fluff planned next to detox a little xD)
> 
> Love x

After that first night together their progress continued, but it was a slow, careful thing. As he’d promised, the next night they’d touched each other, and Dorian had stroked Cullen gently to a climax without even so much as a flicker of fear on the other man’s face. So far, so good, and the more Cullen got used to Dorian’s touch, the happier Dorian was.

 

It wasn’t about sex, not really, but there was still an element of selfishness in Dorian’s guidance. It was about being able to be close to the Commander without being afraid. Because Maker knew he was so afraid of hurting him. More than once since their talk on the battlements Dorian had woken up shaking from his own nightmares about what happened to the man he loved, and it had only hardened his resolve to help Cullen put what had happened into the past.

 

It wasn’t long before Cullen asked Dorian to move into his bed permanently, and Dorian had felt a warm glow when Cullen told him he had less bad dreams when he was there.

 

It hadn’t all been perfect though, and certainly not easy, because things never are. Cullen still woke up shaking and wide-eyed with fear, sometimes he still flinched from Dorian’s touch, and the lyrium withdrawal still came in waves. There were nights when Cullen could do nothing more than shiver against Dorian while trying to apologise over and over, though whether to Dorian or to ghosts from his past Dorian wasn’t quite sure.

 

The Inquisitor requested Dorian’s presence on a mission to the Hinterlands, what was supposed to only be a week but ended up being longer, and when Dorian had returned he found that Cullen had reverted back almost entirely. It had taken days to build him back up again. Dorian had politely requested that he didn’t venture out again for now, instead taking on extra research duties to make up it. He’d felt guilty, until Leliana reminded him that by helping their Commander, he was doing more service to the Inquisition than by shooting a couple of fireballs at Venatori. It helped. Most of the time.

 

Eventually things got into a routine that was rarely broken by withdrawal or nightmares, and it seemed the end was in sight. Dorian had been right in some regards; the flashbacks had been a by-product of the lyrium withdrawal, made worse by years of suppression. Cullen would never be completely free of the pain, or the memories, but he smiled more than he ever had, and the dark circles under his eyes were less pronounced. He ate better, slept better, and while Dorian had always thought he was stunningly gorgeous, now he was just... well, Dorian found it hard to describe.

 

They’d spent a lazy day together, part of Dorian’s new regime had involved insisting that the Commander took one day off a week, and it hadn’t taken long before Leliana and Josephine had also started doing the same on alternate days. The Inquisition always came first of course, but as Dorian had so eloquently argued, their rest was essential to the running of the damn thing anyway.

 

Cullen’s head was in his lap and Dorian carded his fingers through the curly blond hair as he read one of Varric’s tales to him clutched in one hand and held aloft for full dramatic effect. ‘Swords And Shields’ was particularly awful, but Cullen seemed to be enjoying it, and Dorian was enjoying the candlelight view of Cullen without a shirt on sprawled over his... their, bed. Though Dorian still couldn’t help but snort and critique the parts he found particularly ridiculous. It always earned him a chuckle from Cullen at least.

 

“’And then...’ Oh it’s just too awful. Not even the plot twist is exciting...” Dorian despaired, shaking his head at the absurdity of it.

 

“Dorian...”

 

“I mean really, it was the ex Guard Captain all along? How droll! And as for...”

 

_“Dorian.”_

 

Dorian glanced down, expecting a telling-off for ruining the story, and instead was quite taken aback by the way Cullen was staring at him. His pale skin was flushed, and he was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth which was always a sure sign that was thinking about something and wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

 

“Something on your mind, Amatus?” Dorian smiled, scratching Cullen’s scalp through the curls. Maker how he loved those curls, as far as Dorian was concern Cullen was the only person in the Inquisition who really needed to _stop_ styling his hair.

 

Cullen shifted a little, looking nervous. “I was thinking, I’d quite like to try something... intimate.”

 

Dorian laughed softly, closing the book without marking their page. “Oh really? Has Varric’s literary masterpiece made you so overcome that you simply must-“

 

“I’d like to have sex. With you.”

 

“Oh.” Dorian was surely imagining things, though the way Cullen’s face went red certainly suggested otherwise. Their relationship was sexual, but Dorian had never imagined Cullen would want anything more than their gentle touches, and he wouldn’t have blamed him. Cullen had shared only a little more about what had happened in Ferelden, but it was more than enough for Dorian to understand. “Are you sure? It might be too soon...”

 

Cullen shook his head. “Dorian, it’s been ten years. I have to... I _need_ to put it behind me. Properly. And I want to. I’ve thought about it a lot. I haven’t really been listening to the story at all for the last hour...”

 

Dorian laughed at that, leaning over to press a kiss to Cullen’s lips. “You mean you made me read that awful drivel out loud for a whole hour while you were thinking about... that?” He stroked the other man’s face with an affectionate smile. “You are a cruel man aren’t you?”

 

 They moved, so Dorian was resting between Cullen’s legs, careful as always not to press down onto the other man. “We’ll go slowly. You say stop, we stop. Okay?” Dorian didn’t move until he saw Cullen’s nod, then he closed the gap between them.

 

He could tell from the kiss that Cullen was nervous, but he’d said he’d wanted it, and Dorian had promised not to second guess him all the time. He kissed him a little harder, savouring the little noise of approval that Cullen made against his mouth. Dorian nuzzled a path down Cullen’s neck, peppering his skin with kisses as his hands began to roam down to run his thumbs over his hipbones.

 

“I’ve done this only a couple of times before... before the Circle.” Cullen mumbled, talking to fill the quiet. “There was a girl in the village where I was training. I must have been 16? 17? You’ll laugh; it was in a barn.”

 

“You’re so Ferelden it hurts sometimes.” Dorian smiled against Cullen’s chest. “Keep talking, just remember to say...”

 

“Yes yes I know.” Cullen replied, his breath hitching as Dorian’s lips traced a scar. “The second time was with a man. I was 18; he was maybe a year older. A fellow recruit. We shared a room and one night it just sort of... happened.”

 

Dorian kept moving down, his hands moving to Cullen’s thighs to caress them gently, watching the shudder as he ran his nails lightly up the inside of them. The talking to seemed to help, Cullen looked calm, even as Dorian pulled off his trousers and smalls, then his own.

 

“He was made a Knight-Corporal not long after and moved, probably for the best. Things weren’t the same between us after that night.” Cullen smiled a little at whatever memory it was. Probably that the Knight-Corporal had not been present at the Circle Tower, Dorian thought with some concern. Thinking about that probably wasn’t going to help their efforts here. But Cullen seemed to be determined. “And then I fell for my first mage. Not you before you say anything. She was at the Circle. A brief and all-consuming infatuation.” He laughed gently, though Dorian could feel the way his legs shook a little as he parted them.

 

“Well my sweet Commander, this may be all-consuming, but it will not be brief if I can help it... You may take that however you want.” Dorian hadn’t been aiming for the double entendre, but he thought it best to laugh it off just in case. Cullen smiled at least.

 

Dorian reached blindly for the bedside table, almost knocking over a candle as he found the small bottle of oil they had started using for when they desperately brought each other off. Dorian coated his fingers and looked up at Cullen, who seemed to be looking anywhere else, though other parts of him seemed to be responding favourably.

 

“And after the mage girl, who did you fall for next?” Dorian asked, as his fingers trailed down, his free hand stroking Cullen’s hip as he watched his face intently.

 

“I... I didn’t have feelings for anyone for a long time. Then... Maker...” Cullen shivered as he felt one of Dorian’s slick fingers rub over sensitive skin. “Then I met another mage. A man.”

 

Dorian’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Oh? And was he handsome?”

 

“So handsome. And... clever. And so very kind...” Cullen couldn’t finish his sentence as he gasped as one of Dorian’s fingers gently entered him. Slow and careful, as everything Dorian did around him was. There was a moment, just a flash, where Cullen tensed and Dorian was sure he had to stop, but then it passed, and Cullen smiled a little breathlessly at him.

 

Slow and careful. Cullen needed that. But he still needed _this_ , and he kept himself breathing as he let himself be swept away in the sensations. He loved Dorian; he wanted to do this with Dorian, and no bad memories were going to stop him now. They couldn’t. Dorian continued to work his fingers, easing him open with murmured praise against his hip. “Please Dorian. Please.”

 

“Tell me what you need.”

 

“I need... more.”

 

Maker, it was hard to see Cullen so needy and keep his control. Dorian swallowed as he gently pulled his fingers free, taking a moment to enjoy the little whine that escaped Cullen’s lips. He looked so incredibly beautiful in the candlelight, and when Cullen met his eyes they simply stared at each other for a moment, both thinking the same thing about each other.

 

“Dorian...” Cullen tugged at the mage, wanting him closer. Dorian moved to oblige, stroking himself with his slicked hand as he got into position. They kissed for a long time, Dorian hovering where he needed to be, but unwilling to move just yet.

 

When they finally pulled away, Dorian pushed in. Cullen gripped his shoulders, tense and a little overwhelmed until Dorian soothed him with kisses to his temple, stroked his hair with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, and only when some of that tension eased did he keep going.

 

Slowly and carefully.

 

Cullen’s breaths are ragged, but he isn’t thinking about Kinloch Hold, just about the first time he’d done this. It had hurt more then; inexperienced fumbling usually hurt something after all. Dorian didn’t hurt, not once he’d adjusted, but Cullen still kept his eyes shut until the other man bottomed out. Only then did he open them, and only to see where Dorian was so he could pull him into another passionate kiss.

 

They gained confidence with each other as Dorian rocked into him, Cullen’s legs coming up to allow him more room to move. They fit together so perfectly, and couldn’t stop kissing even as they started to pick up the pace. It was unspoken, natural, and there wasn’t even a flicker of tension. Instead they moaned against each other’s mouths, breathing harshly when they pulled away for only a second to grab another lungful of air before their lips crashed together once more.

 

It’s more than just lovemaking, it’s _release._

 

Dorian’s hand slipped between them and he stroked Cullen in time with every thrust, until the man was moaning so loud he was grateful for their little tower on the battlements, far away from anyone else. He managed only a few long strokes before Cullen came apart in his hands, coming with a sound that was more like a sob than a moan. The sight alone was enough for Dorian to follow suit, hips stilling almost immediately.

 

For a long time they simply lay there, Dorian sprawled across Cullen as they panted, their skin shiny with sweat. It wasn’t until Dorian started to shiver that they moved. It was, once again, slow and careful. Dorian rolled off Cullen, and they used a discarded shirt to clean the mess of themselves, before pulling blankets up around themselves as they curled up together. Neither of them said a word, as if speaking would shatter the moment.

 

The silence had to be broken eventually though, and it was of course by Dorian. “Are you..?”

 

“I’m fine. More than fine.” Cullen smiled into the mage’s shoulder. “That was everything I wanted.”

 

“Who’d have thought Varric’s writing would lead this eh?” Dorian couldn’t help but joke, though his voice was soft.

 

“I love you.”

 

“And I, you.”

 

This wasn’t the end of their troubles, they both knew that. Cullen wouldn’t wake up cured of nightmares and withdrawal the next morning, and they still had a threat bigger than both of them to defeat, one that could easily claim their lives. But they’d found something here, something worth holding onto.

 

And that was enough.

 


End file.
